


Sleep on the Floor, Dream About Me

by SaltInTheWounds



Category: Pendulum/Knife Party
Genre: M/M, Poorly written angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 01:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4080544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltInTheWounds/pseuds/SaltInTheWounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rob's isolation during Gareth's touring starts to have negative effects on his inspiration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep on the Floor, Dream About Me

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first "real" attempt at a fic. it's short and corny, be warned of this. i also wanna say thanks to my rad buddy TheHiddenPassenger for proofreading and helping me out of a writers block. enjoyyyyyyy

The room was dark, bathing in the dim blue glow of the computer monitor. Sounds of pen against paper could be heard clearly with the surrounding silence, until the producer crossed out a few verses with frustration. Nothing. He turned his head to the side, opening his mouth to ask his partner for advice, but the chair was empty save for Judas curled up and sleeping in it. Gareth was long gone; being a duo meant that separation like this was inevitable at least once a year, and it was most likely to happen during album writing periods.

It had only been 4 days, the producer thought to himself.

Every time he was split up from his best mate, Rob always found himself in an abysmal lack of inspiration, and what with the deadline approaching, he feared that he would be obliged to push back the release date again and put up with a string of hateful messages from certain ‘fans’. Sighing, he set down the pen and looked up at the ceiling as if it would bring answers to solve his problem. A break could help. He pulled himself up from his chair with a tired groan, making his way to the window and opening it wide. The cold midnight air chilled his warm face steadily, hazy blue eyes looking upwards, maybe trying to discern a few stars despite street lights still being alight. Maybe Gareth was doing the same thing right now..? He shook his head at the thought, smiling sadly. It’s probably daytime where he is.

Once he felt more or less refreshed from the night air, he distanced away from the window, looking back at his desk. The notepad he had been writing on was taunting him. He just couldn’t think of anything at all, even with the track names already thought up. He stayed like this for a few minutes, his frustration only bottling itself up even further.   
And suddenly letting out a frustrated wail, grabbing hold of the crumpled sheets of paper and sending most - if not all - of it onto the floor. Judas was immediately startled and jumped off of the seat, darting out of the room. Rob kept tossing papers here and there until the desk had nothing left on it. Just staring blankly at the mess that now covered the floor, breathing heavily, sinking back into his chair and biting his lip. The urge to cry out his frustration was there. He was so tired, stressed out, and lonely. All he needed was some sleep and maybe some reassuring words from Gareth. None of those were possible. There were songs to finish writing and the ginger was probably busy; tours are merciless. Even his cat had left to go cause mischief whilst Rob wallowed alone in his pity.

Then a thought crossed his mind.

Rob got up from his chair, slowly approaching his nightstand and opening one of the drawers. Shuffling through his possessions, until he pulled out a black cap. Specifically, the last one Gareth was wearing before he had left for touring. He didn’t steal it, no, Gaz has an entire fucking shelf of these things, but he was actually given it at the airport before his departure. It was a comfort item of some kind, he had decided. It may sound stupid, maybe creepy, and juvenile even, but he didn’t care. Nobody was watching anyway. Rob held it close to his chest, shutting his eyes and sinking down onto the floor. And just like that, the loneliness he felt became tenfold worse. He stayed like this for a good half hour, curled into a fetal position with the hat stuffed close to him. As he slowly opened his eyes, he spotted the notepad and pen a few feet away from him. 

A few verses came to mind. 

He slowly pulled himself up, swiping the items off of the floor and set the pad in his lap, clicking his pen and slowly starting to write.

'Is there another place to be?’

As he finished the sentence, he looked back up and glanced around the room. Torn and crumpled up papers littered the floor, all containing rejected verses and notes.

'Is there another way to feel these lost pieces, all over, getting closer?’

He sighed, rereading what he came up with and shutting his eyes. It was too short, too corny perhaps. He was about to cross it all out until he paused. He quietly started humming something to himself a few times, until he started singing softly. If only Gareth was here to listen, he would be ecstatic. But never mind that, he finally had a song down. He’d think up the rest of it later, for now he tossed the notebook aside and laid back on the floor, amongst the scattered papers. Clutching the cap close to him again, humming the newfound song to himself and shutting his eyes.

Gareth would be back in 5 days anyway.


End file.
